


Sandman

by Lothiriel84



Series: Abandoned [1]
Category: MarsCorp (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Family Secrets, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: I understand you've been running from the manThat goes by the name of the SandmanHe flies the sky like an eagle in the eyeOf a hurricane that's abandoned





	Sandman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsmilch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsmilch/gifts).



None of it was fair. Never had been, ever since he could remember.

It wasn’t fair that his own mother looked at him as if his very existence was the biggest mistake she’d ever made. It wasn’t fair that his father barely even looked at him, and on the rare occasions that he did, he would sort of tut to himself, then shake his head as if wishing he hadn’t bothered at all.

It wasn’t fair that he was the only Orange in the family tree for generations, and was therefore regarded as the black sheep of the entire family. It wasn’t fair that his so-called internship was nothing but an endless stream of menial tasks, and basically being treated as the scum of the entire base.

It wasn’t fair that of all his fellow interns, he’d been the one to be picked at random for that stupid clinical trial, and had accidentally been given far more information about his own DNA sequence than he would have cared to know, ever.

He was sick, after. The nursebot put that down to a mild case of needle phobia, but Dave knew that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Shareholders, now he got why his mother had requested to be reassigned to a different department shortly after his birth, and also why she and his – no, not actually his father, he reminded himself, bitterly – barely tolerated each other’s presence, let alone ever talked to one another.

Oh, but he was going to find out about that person whose DNA matched his own, even if he had to sneak back into the medical department in the middle of the night, and risk being sanctioned as a subversive and a troublemaker.

That was still a better option than facing his own mother, and demanding that she admitted to the truth about his parentage. Black sheep of the family indeed, he laughed to himself, resentfully – he was going to show them all, one day. Even if that was the last thing he ever did.

 

* * *

 

“Oh. Hello. Dave Price, is it? How can I help you?”

He gazed at the intern standing somewhat awkwardly in front of him, vaguely wondered if it was someone he was supposed to remember from his school days. The laboratory was otherwise empty, so it looked like coming up there had been a complete waste of time.

Still, he was supposed to be sweeping the floor of the canteen right now, and that wasn’t something he was looking forward to, not even the tiniest little bit. Damn it all, he was too smart to be a cleaner, or whatever stupid job where he could easily be replaced by the next robot.

“Is your boss around?” he asked at length, marvelled at the sudden blush that coloured the intern’s face.

“Colin, ah, he’s not here. Mr Denham, I mean. Do you want me to, um, take a message, or something?”

“No, thanks,” he shook his head, quickly vacated the premises in order to avoid further questions. He had a vague recollection of having seen that intern somewhere – was it the other boy Angelica used to pick on at school, what was his name? Daniel – no, David. David Knight, Blue. The sort of weird, head-in-the-clouds genius who would trip over his own shoelaces. He was probably a couple of years younger than Dave, though he had graduated early, if he wasn’t mistaken.

That was the kind of son his mother would have been proud of, he thought bitterly, only to stop dead in his tracks when he realised something he’d very much rather have not. According to the file he’d eventually managed to get his hands on, Colin Denham was thirty-six, while he himself was nineteen, which meant – Shareholders, he was going to be sick again.

He wasn’t even sure he would be able to look his own mother in the eye ever again.

 

* * *

 

Sweeping floors had its own advantages, Dave had to admit; for instance, it allowed you to sneak up on elusive Heads of Departments, and corner them with the aid of nothing but a broom and a bucket of soapy water.

“Sorry, Sir, you can’t step in there. Floor’s still wet. Health and safety rules, you know.”

As if either of them had ever cared about rules in their entire life, Dave thought to himself, his eyes fixed on the man’s face. Colin Denham merely smiled – a charming, yet dangerous smile, one that meant it had taken him only a fraction of a second to see through Dave’s true intentions.

“Of course,” he nodded, genially, then tilted his head to one side. “Wouldn’t dream of it, would we?”

Dave swallowed around the lump in his throat, bravely held his ground against the unspoken challenge in the other’s eyes. There it was then, he acknowledged somewhat grimly – his biological father, the one his mother had apparently had a fling with, all of it while the man was still an intern, and she his supervisor. In a flash of clarity, he realised that Colin knew – knew precisely who he was, and the exact reason why he was there.

Colin knew he had a son, and he couldn’t give a damn about it. That was even worse than being barely tolerated by the man he had been calling his father up to that moment, and he clutched at the handle of his broom until his knuckles turned white.

“Well, I guess I’ll just nip down to the bar then. Say hello to your mother for me – I haven’t seen her in ages, I trust she’s all right?”

“She’s – fine,” Dave managed to reply, in spite of the mounting resentment that was burning at the back of his throat.

Colin shot him another deceptively friendly smile, then strolled out of the room. Dave only narrowly resisted the impulse to scream, and smash all that precious equipment of his into a million of pieces.

Shareholders, he hated his life, and everything about that stupid planet.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Wolfsmilch, who talked me through the process of moulding my somewhat insane idea into some passable imitation of a story. 
> 
> (Obviously, I'm the one to blame if all of this still doesn't make any sense whatsoever. Please direct any complaints to me, and me only.)


End file.
